With Eyes Like Gems
by Caedi.Tarian
Summary: Romano has noticed for a while now how isolated he is from the others, and the young nation begins to wonder if it might be because of his lackluster eyes. With a bit of help, maybe he could see just how special he is to a certain few nations.


**With Eyes Like Gems  
Main Pairing**: None  
**Rating:** T  
**Info**: Slightly AU (timeline), second installment of my "Love Lessons" series. Happy St. Nicholas Day eve, everyone! This was mostly just a fun little experiment I wrote at two in the morning, so don't take it too seriously.  
**Warnings:** Preteen!Romano shows a softer side, but he's still got a mouth on 'im. :/ Silly Romano, messing up what could have been a K+ story…  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters, obviously.

* * *

Romano wasn't exactly sure what was wrong, but he figured that it must have something to do with the fact that so many people had shown up at Netherlands' house without asking… However, with over a dozen nations standing on the front steps and a cheerful Belgium explaining that they all wanted to celebrate Sinterklaas with him, he must have been hard pressed to deny them.

Or not. Netherlands had slammed the door in their faces.

Luckily, Prussia and Denmark were at the front of the queue and promptly kicked the door down, which had allowed everyone to swarm inside.

Now Romano was sitting alone in the den, watching the older nations talk, laugh, and, in the case of a certain rowdy pair, drink themselves silly. The little nation frowned, half wishing that Veneziano could be here with him… At least he wouldn't be all by himself. '_Adult parties suck. They don't want to talk to me. They never do_.' Not even Spain and Belgium had said much of anything to him since they had arrived…

He watched Spain as the dark-haired nation hovered around Belgium, Switzerland, and Liechtenstein's quiet huddle by the makeshift snack table that was actually a coffee table. They were all so… festive, colorful. Bold scarlet adorned every single one of them. Liechtenstein's modest dress, Switzerland's jacket (which he hadn't bothered to toss in the hall as the other nations did), Spain's shirt, and Belgium's sparkling headband… Romano looked down at himself, only then remembering that he had torn off his red tie and left it in the car.

"Look at those eyes. Something bothering you?"

Romano jumped and glanced to his right to see Netherlands leaning against the back of the couch further over. "Problem? I don't have a fucking problem. Why would I have a…" He went silent for a moment and glanced down to his hands before looking back to Netherlands, who gave him a pointed look that meant he didn't believe him. "I don't know…" His eyes? Was it his eyes? Was there something wrong with them? They were hazel, not anything particularly spectacular… Maybe that was the problem.

Instantly, his gaze was drawn back to the small group he had been staring at earlier.

Spain had dark green eyes, eyes that shone with the passion that he was so rightfully known for. France had likened them to emeralds on several occasions, which was something that Romano secretly agreed with. Clear and bright. It was the green of plants, like the thin leaves of Spain's beloved tomato plants. It was the green of jealousy, which lurked just beneath the nation's cheerful expression even now as Spain inched closer to Belgium after Switzerland said something that made her cheeks go pink and sent her into a fit of laughter.

Belgium also had eyes like emerald, though somehow they were different. They were large and welcoming, warm and gentle… As she turned her head away from Switzerland, the light caught on her irises like a ripple of wind through a sea of grass. It was like seeing the green fields of her country through her eyes, a place that felt so much like home him whenever he saw it.

More or less Switzerland and Liechtenstein shared the same eyes, a teal aquamarine. It was the color of the Alpine sky, a sort of washed out hue against the blinding white of the mountains' snowy peaks. With Liechtenstein's rosy cheeks and her soft reddish eye make-up, the blue-green shade was dainty and feminine, soft and gentle. With the main contrast for Switzerland being with his golden hair, the color was bold and fresh.

A peal of laughter tore Romano's attention from the group and he looked to Prussia and Denmark as they attempted, and mostly failed, to pour themselves another round of whatever liquor it was that they had gotten ahold of.

'_Hm. They have_ lots _of friends, don't they? They're always talking to someone…_' They must have something that he didn't…

Well, no one had eyes quite like Prussia. They were rubies. Sharp and bright, but off somehow… They were the color of blood, of fresh hurts and pain. It was difficult for Romano to hold eye contact with the silver-haired nation, honestly.

Denmark was the same, in a way, though still somehow different. Obviously, his were sapphires, bright like Spain's yet with something that Romano couldn't put his finger on. They were expressive, overbearing, yet deep, much like the northern oceans. Cold, untamable, so very different from the green, warm waters that Romano loved so much.

No, that couldn't be what he was looking for. Despite their cheerful exteriors, in a way Romano could tell that that ability to draw others in was not without its severe downfalls…

There was still a happily chatting trio sitting at the dinner table across the way. Somehow Spain had managed to drag poor Cuba all this way…

His eyes were different from the others. They didn't have a magnificent glow or shine to them, but they were calm and wise. Black like obsidian, sharp and harshly cut, but still incredibly warm like black cane molasses. They showed a toughness that was not quite as tough as it wished to be, but a faint glint that seemed to say that he certainly knew something that no one else did.

And, at the moment, Cuba did know something, and that was apparently the identity of the young, blond man sitting next to him. All Romano knew was that Cuba had dragged the man with him, though the man had been repeating over and over that he was not, in fact, America. Romano knew that immediately because, unlike America, this man had eyes the color of amethyst. The color of dusky evenings and a shade seen in the Northern Lights or the twilit sky in the moments before the sun ducked beyond the horizon. They were so open and friendly, like Belgium's.

On that man's other side was Luxembourg. His eyes were peridot, a sort of color that was stuck somewhere between green and gold. In many ways, he was a mixture of his older siblings.

Speaking of which… Romano looked to Netherlands, who was now glaring in the direction of Denmark and Prussia. His eyes were… Well, maybe an orange-ish topaz in broad daylight, but for now they were simply gold. He always had been fond of gold and, as an excellent trader and merchant, hardly wanted for it. Still, like gold, they were cold, distant… Gold loves no one, no matter how much it may be loved.

With a heavy sigh, Romano looked to his hands in his lap. His eyes were… hazel, a sort of muddy mixture of green and brown. What did that say about him, besides spoiled and unclean? It was as if he were some sort of broken nation that no one particularly wanted, and so the world had then been given perfect little Veneziano to make up for it.

"I think I'm broken," he said hesitantly, keeping his eyes focused on his hands. He couldn't let Belgium know, and he didn't want Spain to get rid of him like he knew Spain had wanted to do those years ago… But, this was Netherlands. So, maybe he would be able to find out why his was so different from his perfect little brother and all the bright-eyed nations of the world… He didn't really think Netherlands liked him much (not that he seemed to like much of anyone), but hopefully that would mean he would be honest.

Instead, Netherlands didn't comment. He did look thoughtful, though, Romano noticed when he dared a peek. Great. He probably should have just kept his mouth shut.

"I think you're just thinking too much."

"No, really! I can't paint like Veneziano, I can't clean like you can, I can't… say things like other people can… And I have stupid eyes."

"Stupid eyes, huh?"

"Yeah, look at them! Stupid color, stupid fucking _me_…"

Netherlands leaned over the back of the couch and shrugged. "I don't see anything wrong with them except that you look like you're going to murder the closest thing you can."

Romano took a deep, steadying breath to calm his nerves. Then he looked to Netherlands with a frown.

"See? That's better."

"Is something wrong?" It was Belgium, with Spain at her side. They must have heard his outburst from earlier… Great.

"Something about him not liking his eyes," Netherlands said.

Belgium plopped onto the couch next to him while Spain knelt in front of them, though the idiot country was smiling. "Aww, Romano, why do you not like them? They are such beautiful eyes."

Romano slapped his hands over his face in an effort to keep from blushing. How embarrassing! Now all three of them were hovering over him because of something as stupid as that! "Because they're just boring and ugly, that's why. Just like me!"

An arm snaked over his shoulders, and Belgium squeezed him in a one-armed hug. "But they aren't boring or ugly, Romano. They've got so much attitude that one color isn't enough for them!" When Romano glanced to her, unconvinced, she smiled. "Brown is warm and earthy, and it just makes your face look healthy and strong."

"And green for the gardens because Romano likes to eat so much!" Spain said, reaching to tickle the smaller nation while he was still distracted by Belgium.

Romano gave a shriek of laughter and tore the offending hands away from his torso, but the shadow of a smile still shone through the stern glare he tried to give Spain.

"On the other hand, your people skills need some work." Netherlands ruffled Romano's hair and then pointed to Liechtenstein. "Why don't you go talk to her?"

The young Liechtenstein was still close by her brother's side even as Switzerland was trying to ward off Prussia and Denmark. However, when she glanced in the direction of the couch, she offered a small smile.

"I'll throw those two morons out first. Why did you bring them, anyway?" Netherlands poked his sister's shoulder.

"It wasn't us! They came on their own, I swear! It's not my fault you have liquor in the house."

Spain grabbed Romano's hands and dragged the young nation to his feet. "Come on, let's go talk to them, okay?"

He wrenched his hand away from his guardian's, but followed after shyly. He returned Liechtenstein's tiny wave with one of his own. Hey, wow, she was actually kind of cute… She gave one of her long braids a shy tug and her aquamarine eyes looked up to meet her brother's before she looked back to Romano.

"Hi."

"Damn you're cute. Can I kiss you?"

He knew he hadn't meant to say it as soon as he spoke those words, but it was already too late. Liechtenstein had gone red, but so had Switzerland… Who suddenly did not look so friendly anymore. Belgium snatched Liechtenstein's arm and tugged her aside as Netherlands, having returned from removing Prussia and Denmark from the room, grabbed the short blond nation's collar.

"Hey, you keep him away from my sister!"

Effectively cowed even though the blond was restrained, Spain nudged Romano away from the furious Switzerland. "Ah, right! I'm sure he didn't mean it!"

Well, maybe his eyes weren't a problem… But, Netherlands was right, his people skills were a little lacking. Romano offered a sheepish grin to Belgium and Liechtenstein.

Liechtenstein took a step away from Belgium and then planted a peck of a kiss on Romano's cheek. "Thank you. You're kind of cute, too."

Romano didn't even care what Switzerland's reaction was anymore because he was certain he had just died and gone straight to heaven.

'_This is the best stupid adult party ever!_'

**AN:**  
This is what I have been doing when I can't sleep because I'm so stressed about finals. :/ Argh.

At this point in the series (because the timeline is AU), Romano is about twelve in human years, Belgium and Netherlands are in their early twenties, and Spain is still forever stuck in his mid-twenties.


End file.
